


Absolute Bearing

by magicianlogician12



Series: You, Me, and the Sea [9]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:07:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25292110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicianlogician12/pseuds/magicianlogician12
Summary: No matter the distance, Miri can always find her way home.
Relationships: Jaina Proudmoore/Original Female Character(s)
Series: You, Me, and the Sea [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1832245
Kudos: 4





	Absolute Bearing

Miri has two compasses.

Most people don’t think twice about it, figuring she has the spare just in case her first one gets lost or goes on the fritz somehow (though how a compass would go on the fritz is anyone’s guess) and it never hurts to have a second opinion, anyway.

One of them she keeps in her jacket pocket, large and bulky, an old design she never got rid of. The other, smaller, lighter, much newer, she keeps on a chain around her neck, inside her shirt since the chain is a touch too long. At some point, the crew of the _Tide_ begins to notice a difference between Miri reaching for the compass in her jacket and the one around her neck.

When she reaches for the compass in her pocket, she is the captain in command, certain of their bearing and full of her typical reckless confidence, the same fire that has led countless others like her over the centuries to follow her lead, wherever she goes.

Very few have seen her reach for the second compass, the one hidden by the folds of her shirt and the length of its chain, but then Miri only reaches for it when sitting in the _Tide_ ’s galley, the hour closer to early than late, when the shadows under her eyes remind her people that she has centuries’ worth of regrets to carry.

Miri reaches for the second compass only when she feels lost, when the bearing in her heart is far more uncertain than the one her vessel follows. It does not guide true north, like the compass in her jacket, like all compasses are meant to, but it does guide her to the north star she has chosen for herself in a daughter of the sea, with hair of sea-foam white broken by a single streak of gold.

The place–the person–that, no matter the distance, she calls home.


End file.
